quelle erqsome...

the almighty destash: actually knitting through it

Last week I finished my first actual jumper (details here and here). While I've knit a few cardigans and am a dab hand at socks, I've always been kind of hesitant about the whole jumper thing. (For one thing, I'm still hesitant about calling it a jumper. It's one of those things I still have to consciously translate before I say it. I'm afraid they might always be 'sweaters' to me.) However, about six weeks ago I decided to take a leaf out of Jasmin's (from the Knitmore Girls) book and enter into Operation Destash, i.e. have a proper rummage through my stash and my pattern collection and match them up.

I really like this idea of destashing through knitting. It's a clean, methodical and thoroughly logical way of tackling an overrun stash. Mine is relatively tiny compared to some, but it's still far too overgrown for my liking. In fact, it has that very much in common with my garden at the moment. Sigh. The hours in the day, as Poirot might lament in his peculiar fluent pidgin English, there are not enough of them.

In any case, one Sunday I spent an entire morning rooting out all the yarns I will not and refuse to ever use, the yarns that I admittedly quite like but are destined to languish if they stay with me and all the quality yarns that I've impulse purchased collected throughout the years to sample but have not. About half have gone to our local charity shop, while the other half are on hand to be donated to whatever good cause will take them.

My stash thoroughly weeded, the rest of the day was dedicated to pattern browsing, queue perusing and squinting critically at designs through skeins held aloft to get the full measure of them. Is there anything more satisfying? It's so utterly self-indulgent and yet a completely necessary use of a knitter's time. In the end, I picked six garments I am desperate to wear in yarn I am desperate to knit, and the plan (The Plan) is to go through the list one by one until I have six new things in my wardrobe.

First on (and off!) the needles: #23 Lace Yoke Pullover by Sandi Prosser from Vogue Holiday 2008, knit in Fyberspates British Merino DK in deep plum, Heaven's Hand in saffron and Madelinetosh Eyre in dove grey.

Next up: Cobblestone by Jared Flood from Interweave Knits Fall 2007, also knit in Fyberspates British Merino DK, this time in this deep-rust-scarlet hybrid solid that makes the colour of Matthew's eyes even more hard to define but no less intense.

Before I wrap this up, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who commented on the last post. The last six months have been pendulous to say the least, but overwhelmingly I've come out of it still bursting with all the good rather than dwelling over the rest. And there's more good things to come, of that I know.

alien vs. the woe betides

Tuesday night The Woe Betides played the Notting Hill Arts Club. It was a fantastic gig, no less because they debuted Bone on Bone which completely brought the house down, but also because the promoters were in league with Videopia and the whole gig helped swede Alien.

I play Kane for about 10 seconds. It was really good fun!

To all Americans, I apologise for everything. (I sound vaguely Scottish, with a hint of Sorry, What's That?) With me are (left to right) Steve, Woebie drummer drummer, aka Colonel Sexlife, [then me], Matthew, my love and Woebie, Sara, my friend and Woebie agent, and Simon, the third Woebie.

ravelympics 2010 - the sleeves are set

Not long ago I realised that the only way I was ever going to finish the goddamn Lace Panel Cardigan was if I had a deadline. I work better to deadlines set by other people, so the Ravelympics seemed like the logical way to go.

Last night, I set in the sleeves. Score 1 to me!

Tonight I plan to seam the sleeves. Arianna asked me why I hadn't just knit them in the round, like any sensible person would do. I have no answer to this, other than a misguided determination to follow the pattern though. This was clearly a ridiculous plan. I don't mind seaming, but the prospect of it does make me lazy.

I have two other cardigans that need finishing -- one being Matthew's Skinny Boy Cardigan, the other being my poor lamented Bridie -- if I can get Lace Panel done by this weekend, I'm going to move on to the next. If I can manage a hat trick, I will consider this whole Ravelympics thing a wild success.

Of course, it doesn't help that people keep adding patterns to Ravelry. Or maybe I just need to stop looking at the Pattern page...

Love Bugs are admittedly a little twee, with all those hearts, but they look like they'd be both interesting to knit and fun to wear -- plus, there's something about that colour that I adore.

 

The Chandelier Fingerless Gloves, on the other hand, are both delicious intricate and wonderfully practical. I could use a pair of these while out good-studenting. 

insert flailing arms of joy here

This week has been mental in the land of Loumms.

First, our new Kanga bags were included in Lotus's Workshop gift guide.

Then we were a CanaryKnits Indie Designer feature on Friday.

And then yesterday afternoon Lou handed me a copy of The Knitter. Because one of our Sock-Perfect WIP bags is in The Knitter.

 

See that? That is us in print! I still can't quite believe it. At some point this year, that bag is going to be included in one of The Knitter's giveaways in support of Mencap, too, which I'm super excited about. I love the thought that we're going to be part of so much knitterly generosity!

it's fixed

Four weeks, six visits and nine boiler engineers later... We have heat.

We had three engineers milling about our kitchen last night debating over what could be the cause, including two area managers, but it took the ingenuity of Engineer No. 9 to find it. 'It' is this:

Chewed or worn away from consecutive fusing, that wire was nestled in the tangle behind our washing machine. It smelled about as bad as it looks: charred and mildewy. I'm just relieved it was found before it ignited properly and sent the house up.

In any case, all this means that the Great Boiler Saga is (for now, fingers crossed, gods' willing) over. I think we can all breathe a sigh of relief, for this surely means more interesting blog posts from here on out!

defrosting cockles and gingerbread

Yesterday, after a near meltdown on my part, Matthew called up the landlord and charmed them into action, hurrah! The British Gas engineer is scheduled to come today, hurrah! (I keep wanting to call the British Gas engineer the BT engineer -- they have nothing to do with each other, so far as I can until, unless British Gas sorts out the BT offices' boilers and BT maintains the British Gas telephones.)

Regardless, functioning central heating will soon be mine! 

We made gingerbread cookies last weekend, and because of the moisture hanging in the air (due to the lack of central heating, rather than the fact we live in a 130-year-old house), all the ones we hung from the tree lost their heads. Or rather, they lost their bodies. They were all lovely and crisp when they went up, but the sog set in and, well, it wasn't pretty.

I will make some more after the British Gas people have been and there will be much rejoicing and crunching of crisp gingerbread heads and hanging of gingerbread dancers. I cannot wait!!

icicles in my window

Not outside, but actually in. I swear! All right, fine. There is a fine sheen of iced condensation frosting over the inside of the window that refuses to dissipate even with the electric heater on.

We have been without central heating since LAST FRIDAY. While the landlords have been (half-heartedly) trying to find us a boiler engineer, I have been swaddled in as many layers, barring the actual snowpants but including the tassley ear-flap hat and fingerless mitts, of a small Canadian child about to exit into a Newfoundland blizzard. At the turn of the last century. I currently have a hot water bottle strapped to my thighs and a continual supply of steaming mugs of tea and I am still cold.

I have weathered much fiercer temperatures -- I have been in the midst of ice storms and blizzards and mid-winter hailstorms with hail stones the size of canteloupes, but they were OUTSIDE!!

I should be working feverishly on editing a paper, which is due to be published shortly (yay!), but 'feverishly' is impossible when my internal organs are all trying to huddle for warmth. I might give up all together and bake some more of these:

Actually, that's a rather spiffing idea. Mmmm, warm mincy kitchen!

find of the day

socktoswap

I've been sitting on this for a whole week, I'm afraid, because I am a selfish, selfish being. The Socktopus Secret Santa is in its second year and I missed last year, for various reasons, mostly involving my own hibernating hermitage. This year, however, I pounced at the chance to participate, and I'm so glad I did!

So why have I waited to share the spoils rather than shout from the rooftops my good fortune and delight? Because then you would know where to find the most delicious skein of Sundara in the land. And it's mine; mine; I tell you! I've only ever covetously fondled the Sundara of Alice and pined for it on Ravelry. Little did I know Tricia had a skein up her sleeves just for me, hurrah!

The rest of the parcel is just as awesome: a brand new copy of Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World, to replace mine which met a tragic end from overuse (and from being dropped in a mop bucket); a hanging lavender sachet, which is currently defending my closet with sweet-smelling gusto; some frankly superb gourmet popcorn, including BLUE CORN, which I have only ever had in tortilla chip form and has been my favourite since I was about eight; and a fanfreakingtastic pattern from Emily Johnson of the Family Trunk Project.

If you followed the Loumms Year of Socks at all, you'll know how I love a good story when it comes to patterns and designs and I've been eagerly following Emily Johnson's Family Trunk Project since it's inception. The Julia Socks, a bit of a deviation from the Project, inspired by Sarah Water's The Night Watch, is a beautiful textured pattern and I cannot wait to cast on!

30/30 the canadian grilled cheese

What makes a grilled cheese sandwich 'Canadian', for me, is two things:

1. The sandwich must be closed during the grilling process. Over here a grilled cheese is often open, with the cheese melted onto the bread from a heat coming from above. In the Canadian grilled cheese, the cheese melts between the bread as it toasts. Usually the bread is compressed during the toasting process, to accelerate the melting process.

2. The outsides of the bread is buttered, which makes it a little crispy and a lot tasty.

The only way to do this without a grilling machine is in a frying pan or skillet, pressing down with a spatula. It's pretty calorie intensive, so this is really a very occasional treat, but man is it delicious!

ingredients:

2 pieces bread, about 1/2 thick or more
strong cheddar, enough to cover one of those pieces, sliced

method:

Make sure your ingredients are prepped before you begin, as this is pretty quick once you get rolling.

In a wide-ish skillet, melt the butter at medium heat. Tip to spread it around, the way you would when making pancakes. Lay both pieces of bread down. You don't want them burning or sticking, so keep them moving by gently shaking the pan.

Once they have absorbed a bit of the butter (1 minute), turn down the heat and on one of the pieces arrange the cheese. Make sure it does not hang over the side! Overlapping is fine. Place the second piece, toasted-side up, over the cheese. Take care not to jar any of the cheese.

Let sit for about 1 minute, to begin the melting process. Then, take your spatula and press firmly. If the corners of the crust are resistant, concentrate on them before flipping. After about 15 seconds, flip and press again. Continue pressing and flipping until the cheese is melted (under 2 minutes total) then remove from the pan. There might be some overspill, so take care not to leave a stringy cheesy melted trail, which is a pain to clean up.

Best served with home-made tomato soup or chocolate milk.